


Wind 'Em Up and Watch 'Em Go

by blueberry



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Community: twd_kinkmeme, Dirty Talk, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism, Well sort of "friends"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:07:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberry/pseuds/blueberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth wants to do what she can to live life to the fullest. Since she started sleeping with Merle, his ideas have sure been some help with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wind 'Em Up and Watch 'Em Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this kink meme prompt](http://twd-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/4497.html?thread=6946193#t6946193): Merle and Beth are sleeping with each other, unknown to everyone else. One day, Merle wants to watch how Beth pleasures herself. She hesitates, but wants to try. Unsure at first, she gets more and more confident and in the end really turned on by Merle encouraging her.

Merle was grinning. Over at his spot sitting on the stairs, looking at the plate balanced in his lap, and a good few minutes before Daryl and Carol went to sit nearby with their own lunches, he was grinning away for no reason. Unless that reason was Beth, and she was pretty sure it was.

It didn't _matter_ ... but she'd set out to accomplish that little thing, and she had. All it had taken was for her to wear her shortest pair of shorts and a shirt with a wide enough neck to slip off a shoulder, and to leave her hair loose and messier than usual. And to move around near Merle while not saying much to him, and make sure he could see her all through the morning, and ... a lot of dumb things that turned out to work. She had never tried to be _seductive_ before. When? For who? Part of her was sure she hadn't managed to be seductive now, but she also knew that look on Merle's face. This was going both ways; the effect she had was a real thing, not her own mind and body running away with her.

She sucked her fingers clean as she ate, though she didn't dare risk a look to see if it had worked in case she blushed too much. The second time she tried that tactic, a coughing fit broke out over by the stairs that had to be Merle's, because Daryl and Carol spoke up in response to it. Unconcerned, Beth arched her back as she thoughtfully sat back and got the last of the sauce off, letting a fingertip linger on her bottom lip. Merle might be laughing or he might be shocked, but either way was all right by her. She'd already got her message across.

After lunch, as she and Carl cleared the area, she told her father in a carrying voice that she was going to grab her writing stuff and find a quiet place - no, not too far, and nowhere unsafe, she really wasn't looking to clear out the rest of the prison herself. They exchanged smiles and then she grabbed a last mug and got out of there, still altogether too close to a suspicious blush.

Once she'd got away, she went halfway to her and Merle's usual spot and sat down cross-legged against the wall of a corridor. If anyone else came after her, they'd start getting used to idea that she might sometimes be in odd places, which would be good with the amount of sneaking around she did lately. All the subterfuge ought to make Beth feel worse than it did; mostly, what she did with Merle felt intensely private, and it bothered her more that everyone else would make it their business if they had any idea of it.

She'd brought her song lyrics notebook to keep busy with, in which she jotted down as much as she could remember of songs she knew; she wrote, humming to jog her memory and then listening carefully to make sure she hadn't called walkers close. Finally she did hear someone nearby, but none of that dangerous, raspy breathing. The footsteps came closer in familiar tread, fast and heavy - someone who knew where they were going and what they'd get out of it.

Beth put her pen in the loops of the spiral-bound notebook and stood, shaking her hair out of her face and making sure her clothes sat right. Or should she get the shirt off-shoulder again? Too late - Merle was around the corner, firm steps stuttering as he saw her before he expected to, and her body heated up all over at seeing that she could throw him off again.

"Just enjoying the sun in the corridor, here," Beth said, waving to the row of small windows that warmed the narrow corridor up.

Merle growled and backed her against the wall, resting his hand just above her head. "Hey! You little minx, you wild _cat_." He spoke like the words were insults. "You get a kick out of winding a man up?"

She could have asked why he had to act mad all the time, even when teasing, but then he might get annoyed for real. Instead Beth looked up at him with big eyes. "I didn't figure I was doing anything much. Maybe you're just a dirty old man?"

"With such a dirty old mind..." He snorted. "You couldn't find a popsicle to suck on and really play the part?"

Beth found her lips twitching and ducked her head, brushing hair behind her ear. "Fresh out."

"Might just have one here for you," Merle said - and he broke first, starting to laugh. "Goddamn, girl. I look like somebody you use as your training wheels?" In fact, he couldn't stop laughing.

He could be fun. Beth shrugged one shoulder and grinned up at him. "Rick's got Judith this afternoon, Carol's on watch, Carl's going to hang out with Michonne so she can show him how she uses her sword. Those are the people who usually come looking for me, and nobody's mentioned needing me for anything, so I thought I could get while the getting's good." She nodded down the corridor in the direction that led away from C Block, towards the office the two of them used, feeling her face go red and cheerfully accepting it. Not like they both weren't used to her doing that. "If you want, and you're not going out with Daryl or anything. He's supposed to be on watch with Carol so I thought it'd be fine."

"Oh, you wanna get - you'll be getting something, all right." Merle pressed her against the wall with his whole body as he gave a little thrust. "Yeah, I think my schedule allows for an exercise break. Awful thoughtful of you."

He was way harder than he'd normally be before getting rubbed up some more. Well, not like she was winning in that department - she'd been ready to go for hours. It was starting to be a real ache low in her belly, all her wanting. She said his name breathlessly and tilted her head down the corridor again.

"Naw. Hold on a minute," Merle said, easing back to let air between them. "There's a talk I'd like to be having. About your thoughtful habits."

"What, seriously? Now?" She raised her eyebrows mock-pointedly. "That's unusual, Merle."

"There are some implications to this game you've been at. You woke up with a _plan_ that went and put the swing in your perky little ass that you've had me watching all morning. You woke up thinking about me."

"May--"

He wasn't playful anymore. A finger to her lips and one of those almost dangerous, promising, intense looks on Merle's face stopped her dead. How did he do that so fast? She was happy about managing to get somebody a little excited, and then there was Merle, switching on a presence that flared in all your senses.

"Oh, I like it, so you don't have to go playing shy. It's a hell of a thing to picture you tangled up in your sheets and know there's thoughts of me creeping in already, hard on the heels of some of your favourite dreams... And your sweet little ole hand slipping on down underneath the covers, your pajama pants..."

He stroked his knuckles along her neck where her pulse was making itself felt. "I don't only got to picture it, though, do I?"

Beth got it. She almost didn't want to because part of her was scandalised, and she really didn't know if she wanted to do what he was asking for.

Ducking her head away, she turned in the cage made by Merle's body, then took his hand to lead him to the office they'd cleared and secured. Get the man talking and he'd never quit, especially if he thought he had the opportunity to argue and cajole you into something; if it were possible for Merle to hold a conversation with himself, she had thought, he would take very little time before calling himself a nagging, jawing housewife. She'd found if she stayed mostly quiet she could convince him of her viewpoint more easily, and it helped to add open arms to invite him into her. Merle was a guy happy to make do with the simple things, no matter the kind of stuff he might say he wanted them to try.

He gave a dissatisfied grunt, but put his whole arm around her waist and went along with her. As soon as they pushed open the door to the office he started undressing her, his hand always surprisingly quick with buttons; then his fingers dipped down her shorts. It occurred to her that _he_ hadn't even touched her the way that he wanted her to do - used only his fingers to take her over the edge. Still, him doing it wouldn't be the same as her ... putting on a _show_...

Merle was so distracted he barely paid attention to taking the two steps to actually enter the room, and it was Beth, giggling and with her shirt dragged askew, that remembered to lock the door.

"Get out of your own clothes," she said, pushing him back with a hand to the chest so she had space to take the shirt off.

He didn't just step back, he backed away, going all the way over to the desk. "My shirt, sure, and my knife, of course. But as for the rest..." He took off his prosthetic, his button-down and tank top, and then sat on the desk and stared at her while she finished taking her shoes and socks off. "To my mind, that'd be dangerous."

Sitting there with afternoon light starting to strike gold in the creamy paint and wood panelling of the room, looking warmed and soft-edged in a way it was hard to in the cell blocks, Merle didn't look dangerous. But he still looked like he'd eat her up. "I wouldn't want to forget what I had in mind - just get carried away and nail you like there's no tomorrow. There's still that sight I'd love to see."

Beth tried not to squirm. She was already on show - shirtless and leaning against the door for support, shorts open, thighs squeezing together... Merle was pretty damn hard, she guessed at a glance, even with his pants obscuring the view, so at least it wasn't just her. They hadn't hardly touched; she could get him in this state anyway.

"So you've thought about my proposal - quiet, taking a bit of time about it the way you do - now have you found yourself at a conclusion? Which way are you hopping, bunny rabbit?" He was starting to smile like he already knew.

Then again, Beth found that she was starting to smile too, the corners of her mouth wavering up as her heart pounded. "I don't know which way I'm jumping. Doing that sounds ... awful embarrassing..."

"But," Merle encouraged.

"Guess I've done some embarrassing things already. Without you or me asking for it, sometimes." (Nothing had ever warned her how ridiculous sex could be, or what a plain mess, not even Maggie and her occasional stories.) "And you usually don't laugh all that hard."

He made an abjectly apologetic face, putting fingers over his mouth in a promise to keep quiet. Beth giggled - unable to help it, or the shortness of her breath, or how her gaze fell away to the floor.

This wasn't playing around like she'd done earlier by trying out 'seduction'; it was raw like nothing she'd ever even thought of doing. So was a whole lot of the stuff she'd done with Merle over the weeks. Touching him at all, or even liking the look of him had been way out of her frame of reference. That was why she'd asked to have sex with him in the first place. When else was she going to do things she'd never done before?

She straightened her spine, pushing off the door, and felt like the floor had moved with her. But even if this was really, _really_ , so very freaking far from piano and song solos at church on special occasions ... she still had practice with not giving in to stage fright.

Beth aimed to make her little walk across the room a saunter. Noises of appreciation followed her, and the sound of the desk chair getting rolled to a new spot. She pretended she had heard nothing, sinking onto the thin mattresses they had stacked up by the wall, and pulled the pillows into a heap to lean against.

"You gotta build a fucking nest to flick your bean in?" So much for Merle not doing any teasing. She shot him a look, but he just sighed with satisfaction and put his feet on the desk, arms crossed behind his head. He was out to be a regular front-row audience. 

It's all right, Beth thought to the frantic beat of her heart, it's all okay. I like it. He likes it. That's all good. 'Good' has changed a lot these days.

She found she could make herself get comfortable against the pillows at a natural pace - digging a hair-tie out of her pocket to get her hair out of the way, closing her eyes and lying back. Once she was settled she stroked a breast with one hand, rocking the weight in her palm and brushing her fingers against the nipple, the skin there so sensitive that her fingertips felt cool and rough. She reached her other hand into her open shorts, then back up to stroke her side and touch lightly over her belly.

"That how you usually do it?" Merle said in the low rasp of his interest.

"That's how." She couldn't look at him yet, but that was okay. Especially since she was pretty sure her nipples had gone visibly tight from hearing his voice and remembering all at once the kind of stuff he did when he sounded like that. Beth gave up on the show of working herself up and dug her hand into her underwear. "Little faster than normal," she said, voice a whisper.

"Mmm-hmh." Now it sounded like he couldn't speak at all! Good Lord.

Touching her clit made her belly coil so tight she called out a too-loud sound, and just had to do it again _ohfuck_ too hard-- She sucked in deep breaths and went down to her entrance instead, getting her fingertips wet. Knowing she was under watch, the movements under the straining shorts felt guilty and furtive instead of simply a little more gentle. Face just about on fire, she wrapped her free arm around her waist and slowly dragged her fingers back up to circle her clit.

"Hey, now," Merle said. "Said I was going to make you realise someday that there's no need to be so quiet when we're all the way back here. Now you're damn near going and setting yourself to screaming? The cheek of the girl."

"Don't worry, it's not like I've forgotten that you're there. Trust me."

A strangled chuckle, but after a few moments passed he sounded normal when he spoke. "What are you thinking about? What is that you usually think about?"

"Just ... stuff that's happened." That first time when she came across him in one of the grey prison corridors and he'd shared the bottle of whiskey he'd found when she asked for a drink - when he'd touched her, like she'd asked after a while and a few more mouthfuls for courage. Right there on the cold concrete, he'd let the two of them make the most of the moment, as well as making promises to her about what they'd do once he found condoms; he'd kept every single one... She thought of that one time when he'd got to his knees in front of her, and when he'd dug his nails in and left lingering crescents on her hip, and laid out broad and strong below her, and above her and blocking out everything else, things he _said_ , his cock in her hand and inside her, mouth wet, stubbled rough, and hand quick.

"No 'stuff' you thought up yourself? That's a scandal, thought you were an artistic type. Creative and all. But I guess that's what you got me around for. Ideas like this. You having fun?"

Beth took a deep breath - this wasn't too much for her, no way - and opened her eyes, rolling her head on the pillow pile to look at him. "Why don't you guess, Merle."

His arms were on his thighs, now, the hurt one pressed between his legs and his fingers digging into his thigh. She liked the feel of doing that to him too. Beth smiled, but he looked beyond the point where he could return it, gaze travelling from her face to her hand to the way her toes twitched.

And he kept doing that thing with his tongue against his lips that looked gross. Probably because it was _so hot_.

Her shorts were an annoyance now, and she wriggled out of them and her underwear. Merle made approving noises again though his expression looked like he was in pain, and his fingernails scratched on the heavy fabric of his pants as his grip tightened.

Beth let her eyes shut a moment as she brought her right hand down to her entrance, left hand still playing with her clit. She didn't always do this, but Merle would appreciate seeing her fingers slide in. "I didn't used to be able to get anything at all inside me. Even..." But he liked it when she talked about this stuff. "Even when I tried the one time, and me and, ah, my boyfriend, we just couldn't really make it fit..."

Merle looked like he made an effort to rein himself in and talk. "Ain't surprised," he drawled. "I do remember how it hurt you just taking my fingers that first time. And then my dick..." He gave a little whistle, shaking his head, and he was at once too pleased - with hurting her! - for her not to be angry, and staring too intently for her to stop.

"You gotta look so happy about that?"

"Yeah, Beth, that I do. You let me bring you back here again, didn't you? Let me have you even after the hurt. Knew it stood you in good stead after all the rest of what we'd done. It's awful nice to be so very. Sincerely. Appreciated."

He got off the chair and pitched forward to kneel on their bed. Eyebrows raised, mouth quirked genially, he raised his hand to one of her legs and nudged it a little wider open. She obliged. At this point, why not? oh, why have shame? She spread both her legs, planted her heels and rolled her hips up to angle her fingers better. Merle's breath came right out in one rush but she really couldn't look at him anymore, she just worked herself up and up and over, unable to help what was happening to her, the shaking of her body or the high notes coming out of her mouth. Then Merle moving in to roll her on her side and get behind her, the teeth of his zip and his dick digging into her backside as his hand pressed over her shuddering belly.

Merle ground and thrust against her. "Here it is, what you're after - all you been wanting, right here, all night and day. Maybe you're going to beg me someday, girl, how about that?"

Beth buried her face in the pillows. Maybe, yes, no, but it didn't matter right now. This, she wanted. He actually came on her and it was exactly what she wanted.

After a while Merle started moving around, getting up to clean off, zipping up, and putting his tank top on. Then he came to lie down again, behind her. Beth hadn't moved from lying curled up on her side; she wasn't embarrassed, exactly, but felt all too aware that eyes would be on her again if she called more attention to herself. Naked, achy, a mess, it would just be a little bit too much to take. 

Merle chuckled. Then he rolled closer again ... and cleaned her up. A rag or something was swiped over the skin of her back, the fabric rough but the movements not too much so. _This_ was new. And more unexpected than what she'd done. And ... while it was attention, it was a kind that made her relax a bit. When he was done swiping off the tackiness he'd left on her back he tossed the rag toward the office bin, letting out another self-satisfied chuckle at getting it in.

Then he passed a moment with her butt and his hand that didn't have much to do with the rest of her - so the situation was getting back to typical. Beth rolled her eyes, but now when she nestled her head into the pillows, she was comfortable.

Yeah, there he went, back to being a low-boil mean about compliments and teasing and everything again: "Look atcha, soft all over," Merle said. "Did you ever do a day's work on that farm of your daddy's, or is this another case where the kid sibling gets away with everything?"

Beth flexed the arm she wasn't lying on - she was no Merle or Daryl in the biceps department, but since people didn't expect any muscle on her at all there was more than enough to shut them up.

He gave a considering grunt. "I'll accept that argument."

"Used a lot of sunscreen. Had good work gloves and overalls."

"Pretty girls got to stay pretty, I guess." He slapped her butt, ignored her protest, and pushed up off the mattress with finality. He paused at the door. "So what are you going to do now that the sunscreen's all used up? There's plenty of room over here on the redneck side of things, girl."

"I'll get a big hat. A sombrero."

"That can be the last thing you take off when you do me a proper striptease." He darted out like that might make her mad.

It just gave her the opportunity to get the last word, calling out "You wish!" after he was a few steps away and most likely wouldn't turn back to have a dumb fight.

Beth folded her hands together and thought about what they'd done, what she had done with them. She curled into a ball, full to bursting with feeling, but even with part of that being embarrassment and shock at herself, she wound up grinning, stretching out and enjoying how the air felt cool against her even in the warm afternoon sunlight that filled the room.

Stepping back into the area they all lived in always felt dangerous after she and Merle had gone off together. Beth put it off, sitting down where she'd left her notebook to finish writing down the song that she'd been busy with. Then for good measure she walked back into Cellblock C while writing another one, hoping to avoid anybody starting a conversation with her right off. She did some work, scrubbing up around the kitchen area, doing inventory on the guns and ammunition, tearing sheets into strips and passing them to Daddy to sterilise for makeshift bandages, taking Judith for a while, and helping out with supper.

Was it ever going to be conspicuous that she went out of her way not to serve Merle when it came to dishing up for people? She sure wasn't starting today.

She couldn't help glancing his way either, once everybody was seated, and it seemed like he was having the same problem, because Merle caught her eye immediately. Just as immediately, he looked away - they couldn't let their gazes meet for long. Significant eye contact would be way too suspicious.

But there was something about him - how he was sitting and holding himself - that made her keep looking. Beth watched from the corner of her eye as he stretched up where he sat on the stairs ... popping his back with an arch that stuck his chest out, and then he licked one of his fingers slowly, thoroughly clean, lips pouted all saucily.

A while later, Maggie said, "Okay, so if you can't actually tell us why you're laughing, could you try and show if you think you'll ever stop? Just make, like, a hand signal." Then she snorted and gave Beth a pat on the back, and on the other side, Carol patted her too, probably smiling. Face buried in her arms as she laughed, resting on the tabletop, Beth couldn't tell.

Nothing wrong with playing little games, now was there?


End file.
